


The Bad Element: Chris Larabee’s Origin Story

by tpena19



Series: Mindhunters/Magnificent 7/Criminal Minds/Boondock Saints Crossover AU [1]
Category: Criminal Minds, The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Case Fic, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Explicit Language, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Minor Original Character(s), Murder, Psychological Trauma, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tpena19/pseuds/tpena19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Chris Larabee become the kind of man who could inspire even other alpha males to follow his lead? How did he learn to continue on even in the face of supposedly insurmountable odds? Why was he asked to head the FBI's new West Coast Behavioral Analysis Unit? Why was he allowed to gather his own team? Where does the nickname 'The Bad Element' come from? Read on to learn the answers to all these questions and more.</p>
<p>Chapter One: the early years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foundation

**Chapter One**

Christopher Ryan Larabee was born to Michael and Anne Larabee in the spring; the perfect arrival time to grow up alongside that year’s colts and fillies. His parents owned, managed, and lived on a horse ranch in Kansas, raising their children as they raised their herds: with discipline and love. As he matured, Chris would always feel a special bond between him and his four-legged year mates.

Chris was a middle child with a much older brother and both older and younger sisters. He was not particularly close to any of them though due to either the large age gap between them or to certain gender differences. It’s hard for an active little boy to get close to someone who is never home, or who only ever wants to play dress-up and dollies (neither of which Chris was much interested in). But in spite of their differences he loved his siblings, though he often didn’t empathize with them or they him.

A demanding baby, he cultivated his infamous glare early in life, even his strong-willed parents weren’t completely immune to its effects. He also had no problem with letting everyone in hearing distance know when he had needs; young Chris was never known as ‘the quiet one’ in the family.

Growing into a rambunctious toddler, he soon wanted to be in the middle of everything, from the cooking to the gardening to feeding the livestock. As he learned to talk, he began to take great pleasure in ordering others about, and could often be found barking commands and glaring from atop his highchair. His older siblings were convinced that the bossy little brat would grow up to be an outstanding drill sergeant one day.

Chris spent his elementary school years making a few close friends, playing a few sports, and helping his family with their horses. He was a happy child who gladly skipped over the awkward, clumsy, adolescent stage and was instead always comfortable in his own skin. He knew his own mind and loved nothing more than to follow the horse trainers about all day learning their skills. His whole family doted on him, at least at first, but when he hit his teen years a stubborn, wild streak began to grow in him, causing some dissent at home.

He began to resent always being the one expected to help out while, it seemed to him, his sisters got to relax and spend time with their friends. He thought that just because he was the only boy at home it shouldn’t automatically mean he had to sacrifice all of his free time to slave around the ranch. Consequently, the blond teen started to rebel in small ways: spending more time away from home, hanging out with friends all day, leaving messy outside chores for the girls to do, and no longer helping his mother with the baking.

One thing Chris didn’t change though, was the time he spent with the horses. He especially loved working with the trainers to break the young horses to a saddle. In fact, he spent much more time at that dangerous chore than he ever had before. It frightened his mother more than a bit to see her baby boy getting tossed about like a rag doll, but she tolerated it because he loved it so much.

Since Chris was a very forthright and principled young man, one who always stood up for what was right, his parents didn’t worry overly about his new behavior, attributing the changes to simple teenage rebellion. As long as no major altercations occurred, they were content to let him play out his transformation. They figured he would go back to being their cheerful little dictator by the time he turned eighteen, giving him a few years leeway to mutiny before assuming he’d fall back into line.

Throughout his high school years Chris got into plenty of mischief, and even had some close brushes with the law, but he was, overall, a good kid with good grades. It seemed his parents were right about him, at least from their point of view. However, by the time Chris was seventeen he knew that the life of a simple horse rancher was not the life for him. No matter how much he loved the animals, he knew he wanted more out of life: he sought danger, adventure, freedom, and genuine challenges to his imagined skills.

One day, towards the end of his senior year, a pit-stop at the local library to do a little career research ended up steering him towards his destiny…

_“Hey, Larabee, what the hell are you doing in here, man?” The tall geeky blond behind the library counter asked as he noticed his fellow senior enter the building. “This isn’t really your kind of scene, is it? It being a quiet place of learning and all.”_

_“Ha, ha. Laugh it up, Olson, won’t change the fact that I’m still kicking your ass in Physics this semester.” Chris returned with a smirk as he headed towards his friend._

_“You know that’s just because you lucked out and got Old-Man Johnson for a teacher, everyone knows he goes easy on the basketball players. I’d be acing the class too if I had him instead of Ms. Mills: bitch hates jocks.” The school’s star forward complained._

_“Are you calling yourself a jock, Albert?” Chris raised his brows. “I thought you were nerd-herd all the way, and proud of it. You certainly look it today, man.”_

_“Hey now!” Albert Einstein ‘Ollie’ Olson scowled. Skinny as a rail and wearing large-framed glasses, he looked like the textbook definition of a science geek, all 6’ 10” of him. After a quick apologetic wave to a nearby patron, and with an obvious effort to keep his voice low, Ollie snapped back. “Who kept those Husky pinheads off your back every quarter last game, huh? Who collected all those rebounds, huh? Who kept passing you the ball for those assists, huh? Me! That’s who!”_

_“Was that you? I thought it was your evil, athletic twin.” As point guard and captain of the basketball team, Chris was well aware of what an asset Albert Olson was to North High’s varsity team; he just liked to razz his friend. And nothing could get Ollie’s back up faster than somebody trying to pigeonhole him. The intelligent boy insisted that he could be a physical powerhouse and smarter than most of the faculty, both at the same time, with no problems - thank you very much._

_“Asshole.” The annoyed teen grinned and relaxed at the friendly teasing. “So, what are you doing here, man? Besides trying to make fun of me, I mean.”_

_Chris couldn’t help but return the contagious smile, as he debated whether or not to tell the other teen the truth. Finally, after deciding that out of all of his school buddies Ollie would be the one most likely to actually listen to what he had to say without teasing him about it, Chris decided to enlighten him._

_“I came to do some research. I’m looking into career options for after graduation. My old man wants me to go to school for business, but I’m just not interested. I’ve been doing the boring classroom setting for years, and now I want something different. I was thinking about, maybe, joining the armed forces.”_

_“ Really? So, you’re not staying to work on your family’s ranch?” Ollie was surprised to hear Chris was thinking about leaving. The Larabee Ranch was pretty well known in the area, and everyone knew that Chris helped his dad around the place, what with his older brother away at Harvard Law and all. Plus, with how good the opinionated teen was with horses it had been a foregone conclusion that he would train to take over the place one day, or, at least, it had been thought to be a foregone conclusion. It seemed that that widespread thought might have been wrong. Ollie should have known better, his irritable friend had never liked being predictable._

_Chris frowned. That was the problem he was having with everyone these days, including his own family; it seems they all assumed he would be sticking around to work with the horses. He wasn’t sure what he had ever done to give that impression though, besides liking the big animals, and it annoyed him because it was so far from the truth. He couldn’t wait until he finally got to leave this small patch of land and go out and really experience the rest of the world._

_“No, I’m not planning on sticking around after Grad Day for longer than it takes to pack up my car and drive away, or else I’m afraid I’ll never leave at all. I want to actually get out there and do something, you know?” Chris said, hoping his friend could understand how he felt._

_The bespectacled blond laughed, “You sound just like my little sister. She can’t wait until she’s old enough to leave this Podunk town, wants to go to New York and act on Broadway. Says she craves independence and adventure, living the high life, and all that stuff.”_

_“Adventure and independence sound good to me; the high life sounds nice too, but acting is right out. Remember that ‘Romeo and Juliet’ disaster back in sophomore year?” Chris made a face of self-depreciation. How he had landed the part was still a mystery to all involved, including Chris himself, especially since he had only auditioned for Romeo on a dare. The intimidating blond with a short fuse for idiocy was not well-suited for a career as a thespian._

_The other boy tried to laugh quietly as he too remembered that particular embarrassing episode in his longtime friend’s life._

_“Yeah, maybe you should plan on staying far, far away from any stages in the future, Larabee. For the sake of your fellow actors, if for no other reason,” teased Ollie as he placed his elbows on the check out counter and leaned forward from his seat behind._

_Chris rolled his eyes and turned away to lean his back against the front of the counter next to Ollie, head up making a sweep across the room, keeping a lookout for anything that might catch his eye - like the new hot cheerleader or his bitchy ex-girlfriend._

_“So, what kind of research were you looking to do?” Olson probed._

_“Well, I’m not entirely sure, really. I was just going to look up some information about the different branches of the armed forces and see if any of those sounded interesting.” The always prepared senior turned a little red admitting to that, but while he found it easy to plan for games and exams, planning for the rest of his life was turning out to be a little more challenging. He figured all he needed was a little more practice at it though._

_“You’re really thinking about joining up? Going to ‘be all that you can be’, ‘aim high’, and ‘live the adventure’?” sang out Ollie._

_“What are you, a walking military jingle ad?” laughed Chris turning his head to look at his friend._

_“It’s hard not to be these days, man. They have those recruitment pieces up all over.” Ollie’s grin faded into a more serious look. “Really, Chris, are you serious about this? Joining the armed forces isn’t something to be dicking around about, those fuckers get shot at and shit. Is that really what you want?”_

_“Well, I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to be stuck laboring at the ranch the rest of my life without ever having experienced the rest of the world. I don’t want to be known as ‘the horse boy’ forever. I don’t want to be forced into being something just because it’s the rest of my family’s livelihood.” Chris looked thoughtful. “And as much as I don’t hate the horses, I crave something more. I’ve been working on the ranch my whole life, I need to get out and do something different, something meaningful. Only problem is, I’m not entirely sure what I actually want to do.”_

_“Well, it sounds like you have some pretty clear ideas about what you do and don’t want from a job, have you made any lists?” Ollie was well-known for making pro-con lists about everything, including girlfriends, which is probably why he was single so often._

_“Dude. I ain’t making a list.” Chris looked disturbed to even be asked to consider the idea, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was within hearing range._

_“Fine. I’ll make one for you.” A fancy ball-point pen and a piece of lined-paper seemed to appear magically in front of the seated teen and he wrote in large black letters across the top ‘Larabee’s Dream Job’ then underlined it boldly. Below that he drew a line down the middle of the page and titled the left side ‘Want’ and the right ‘Don’t Want’. “Made it extra simple just for you, pal.”_

_“Fuck. You.”_

_“Hah. After we fill the columns up, we can go hit the books and do a little research. Find out if the military life will, in reality, be a good fit for you.”_

_Chris looked on with feigned disinterest as Ollie started filling in items for each side of the list, but his front disappeared when the other teen added ‘horses’ followed by ‘close to home’ under the ‘Want’ column._

_“Hey! Those are on the wrong side of that dividing line, pal.”_

_“Oh, really? Are you sure?” snarked the seated blond with a look of faux innocence. “I thought you weren’t interested in making a list.”_

_“Well, if you’re going to do one anyway, you might as well do it right.” And with those words, Chris bent over the list and started informing his friend what more to add to each side, and what to remove. Eventually the single sheet of paper was crammed full, and the boys had a good collection of requirements for ‘Larabee’s Dream Job’._

_“Alright, the fun part’s over, now comes the even more fun part.” Ollie stated as he moved from behind the counter towards the book shelves. “Research party!”_

_“You frighten me sometimes, man.” Chris raised his eyebrows at the visibly excited teen._

_“Oh, shut up, and go sit at that table over there in the corner; we’ve got to keep your negativity away from the impressionable children.” He pointed to the table farthest away from the kid’s section of the tiny library._

_With a chuckle, Chris did as he was told, walking over and seating himself on one of the wobbly plastic chairs as he waited for his friend to emerge from the stacks. He was trying to see if he could balance the unstable chair on just two legs when a giant, walking pile of books approached him._

_“Damn, man. What did you do, pick up every book they had with a military title?” laughed Larabee._

_“Shut up and start grabbing, Mr. Witty.”_

…eventually, after a few long days full of research, more lists, and an always helpful Ollie Olson, Chris decided that the high standards and prestige associated with being a Navy SEAL appealed to him the most. Joining the Army Rangers was his next preferred option, but the exciting missions the SEAL teams got sent on, and how incredibly cool they looked, at least in the movies, helped cement his decision. Now he just had to tell his folks that he had chosen to enlist. Oh, joy. 


	2. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two: the start of a beautiful friendship.

**Chapter Two**

To say Chris’s family wasn’t thrilled with his plan to enlist would be an understatement. In fact, his mother and sisters didn’t want him to leave at all, not even to go to a college out of state, much less to go get shot at in some foreign country; they cried when he told them about his decision. His father still wanted him to go to business school, then to come home and put those new skills to use increasing the ranch’s profits. And his big brother, well, he really couldn’t be bothered to care one way or another, it was almost finals week after all and he had important tests to study for and no time to worry over his little brother’s life choices.

Chris calmly listened to their wishes and wants, and then informed them all that he would stick around after graduation, keeping his part-time job at the feed store and helping around the ranch, only until the deadline came for him to enlist and leave for the Navy. After that, well, he would come back and visit as scheduling allowed. Maybe.

However, things in Chris’ life didn’t quite go to plan, as they often don’t in the real world. Instead, his father had a major heart attack and Chris was needed on the ranch to help things run smoothly while his dad recuperated. His brother even came home for a short visit and helped him get things in order, but then had to leave again for an internship at some big law firm. Chris ran the ranch, with a little help from his mother and recovering father, for months, and he was good at it - talented even. Heck, even his skeptical older sister was impressed.

Still, he never forgot about his dream to leave and join the SEALs. After a year acting as the head of the ranch he approached his parents to let them know that with his father’s total recovery he would, finally, be departing to join the Navy. This meant they would need to start looking into hiring some other permanent help, he even gave them some recommendations. And though they were loathe to see him go, they wished him the best of luck and demanded he keep himself safe when he did finally leave.

Chris found that the first steps towards enlisting and becoming a Navy man were easy enough; he just had to pass a background check, which he did, take a basic physical showing he was in good health, he was, and prove that he had eyesight correctable to 20/20, and his vision was perfect without needing any corrections. Next, he had to pass the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB) test, which was a little harder for him, but he still did well enough to be accepted because of a little preparatory help from a self-study textbook. Then he was off to indoctrination and training; the fact that he was so excited to be going just showed how boring Chris thought his life had grown.

At first, the over-abundance of rules and regulations in basic training, better known as boot camp, didn’t sit well with him. He often resented being told what to do, and how and when to do it, especially after being the man in charge so recently. It was after an argument with a superior officer landed him with extra KP duty for a week, and while he was seriously contemplating throwing in the towel and going home in disgrace, that Christopher Larabee met Bucklin Wilmington and a life changing friendship was born…

_Larabee glowered at all and sundry as he stalked into the mess kitchen Tuesday evening to wash dishes for the fifth time already that week; extra KP duty sucked. The other trainees scurried out of his way as he moved to take up what had become his regular station, right in front of the largest sink. The others had quickly learned not to get on Larabee’s bad side; of course, most of them wondered if he had anything but a bad side. Making friends and positively influencing people he was not._

_Glancing up, Chris noticed a brunette newcomer joining the dinner squad, uninterested in the newbie he looked back down as he finished tying on his apron. Initially, he had tried washing without the ‘girly’ accessory - the first night he had left soaking wet and covered in only God knows what - he had worn the apron ever since in self-defense._

_“Well, howdy, all! Bucklin Wilmington, at your service, but don’t no one call me that unless I’m in trouble, which, come to think of it, might be why I hear it so often,” the tall, well-muscled brunette laughed as he introduced himself to the crew. “My friends all call me Buck. Where do you need me?”_

_The rest of the unlucky men stuck with KP duty that night all pointed over towards the lean, angry blond trying to cut himself in half with his apron strings. Chris gave the lot a defiant glare before turning his back to them and reaching into the soapy water in front of him._

_“Alright, I can scrub pots with the best of them,” Buck grinned. “My momma didn’t raise no pampered fop.”_

_With hardly a blink of protest, Buck headed over to take up a position at Chris’ side. As he was reaching towards the water for a pot of his own to scrub, a lightning quick hand darted out, stopping his motion and dripping bubbles down his wrist._

_“Unless you want to walk back to your bunk advertising exactly where you’ve been, and smelling like it too, best put on an apron,” spoke the voice of personal experience._

_“It’s that bad, huh?” Buck winced before moving off to properly suit up._

_“Worse, tonight’s Mystery Meat night.” Chris frowned down in irritation at the pan he’d been attempting to clean._

_“…gross.” Buck, now donning a bright red apron reading ‘Kiss the Chef’, and Chris wondered where that had come from since_ _he hadn’t seen it on the shelf when he was grabbing the plain blue one he had on, sidled back to the sink. With a look flirting the edge between disgust and fear, the brunette slowly reached into the water. When he pulled out nothing more harmful than a dirty pot lid, his original enthusiasm returned, and brought with it his gregarious nature. “Tiffani or Debbie Gibson?”_

_Blinking, Chris cast a look of confusion at his fellow scrubber, who was now swaying side-to-side to some imagined beat only he could hear._

_“You know, who would you rather…?” grinned Wilmington waggling his eyebrows._

_With a snort of amusement, and with nothing better to do, Chris actually gave the question some thought. Each singer had her perks, but he’d always been partial to redheads, so: “Tiffani.”_

_“Ah, yes, the fiery temptress, a good choice. But remember to never underestimate the power of a redhead’s fury.” Buck glanced at Chris with a look of chagrin. “Never date two sisters at the same time behind each other’s backs, man, especially if one’s a redhead.”_

_“You didn’t?” Chris laughed as he started on another pan._

_“Unfortunately for me, I did. And, hey, things were going along fine with them both, too. Until, like an idiot, I mentioned a family thing to one that the other had told me about,” sighed the brunette setting the lid aside to rinse. “Forgot Shelly, that was the redhead, hadn’t let me know herself yet. Man, did she ever kick my ass. And I mean that literally: Shelly had a black belt in karate.”_

_“So, the moral of the story is ‘never piss off a redhead or else she’ll stomp you into the ground’?” teased a reluctantly smiling Larabee, handing over a dirty pot for his sink partner to scrub._

_“Or ‘don’t date sisters when you’re only twelve, as you haven’t had enough preparation to deal with the complexities of the situation yet’; I haven’t decided which.” Buck said with a thoughtful look as he scoured the pot. “Maybe both.”_

_“You were twelve and already two-timing? Man, you started early,” the blond stated in amazement._

_“Well, my momma always said that I was a fast learner; she just wasn’t always best pleased with what it was I was learning,” chuckled Wilmington before he continued in a serious tone. “But what else could I do? I hadn’t yet learned the fine art that is the handling of my animal magnetism. The ladies have always loved me and I couldn’t disappoint the females of the species, not even fourteen year old ones.”_

_“Fourteen…fine art…animal magnetism…” spluttered the blond, extreme disbelief warred with surprised amusement on Chris’ face before the hilarity won out and he stopped scrubbing to double over in laughter, grabbing at the side of the sink to keep himself upright. Wilmington was full of crap, but he sure was entertaining._

_The laughter was infectious and soon both of the young men were near hysterical, only getting worse as they noticed the way the rest of the KP squad was staring at the two of them. Unable to stop laughing long enough to explain, and not really motivated to in the first place, they just ignored the rest of the men in the kitchen. Eventually, the laughing fit tapered off, only random giggles escaping now and then when one or the other of them caught sight of a confused glower pointed in their direction._

_“Man, I can’t remember when the last time I cracked up like that was,” Chris smiled as he straightened up, reaching back into the soapy water for another pot._

_“Me either,” Buck grinned, also reaching into the water for something to clean. “Got caught sneaking out of women’s housing.”_

_“What?” Chris asked with a blank look. That sentence had come out of nowhere as far as he could tell._

_“The reason I’m here tonight, gracing you with my presence.” Wilmington shared. “I was told the punishment would have been more severe than a couple of extra KP duties if they’d had any actual proof of misconduct or inappropriate fraternization. But, like I said before, and I meant it, the ladies love me; thus, no eye witnesses to any misdeeds. ‘I was just lost on my way to the john, I swear, Drill Sergeant.’”_

_“So, how’d you get caught if these ladies love you so much?” asked Chris with a skeptical look._

_“Eh, what else, bro - jealousy. The downfall of many a great man,” the taller teen shook his head in mock sadness. “Some dude got all butt-hurt thinking that I was sleeping with his lady, so he staked out one of the fucking footpaths every night for two weeks straight, or so he shouted as they were dragging his crazy ass away from me. As good as I am, even I was bound to run across him sooner or later. Last night was, unfortunately, my later.”_

_“And were you?” the blond questioned, once more searching under the suds for a dish._

_“Was I what?” the other teen feigned innocence pretty well as he too put his hands in the dish water again._

_“Sleeping with his lady?” smirked Chris._

_“Of course!” Buck exclaimed looking affronted that the opposite might even be considered. He watched as Larabee shook his head and chuckled, deciding that he much preferred this carefree version of the blond over the grumpy one he’d first joined at the sink. “So, is this your normally scheduled KP duty? Or are you in for some infraction too?”_

_“Infraction? Yeah, I guess you could say I’m in for an infraction,” stated the shorter teen. “If you can call publicly disagreeing with Drill Sgt. Miller’s orders an infraction. I think he called it insubordination. Gave me a week of extra KP duty and one long-ass threatening lecture, plus an extra 100 push-ups a day until he feels I’ve ‘reformed’ .”_

_“That was you?” inquired a shocked Buck. “Man, you’re infamous. The rest of the students can’t decide if you’ve got balls of titanium or a head full of rocks. I was leaning towards the latter, myself.”_

_“Gee, thanks,” snorted Chris. “And just what do you mean by ‘infamous’?”_

_“For something that barely happened this Sunday, it’s already being said that the argument and resulting reprimand are going to go down in the record book of boot camp dressing-downs. One of the top ten, I hear.” Buck replied with an impressed look. “Making records already, go you; of course, I don’t think this is the type of record you really want to be known for, yeah?”_

_Frowning, Chris paused in his washing; he had been thinking about walking out, just packing up his measly supplies and departing. Quitting. As much as it pained him to do so, he was almost at his breaking point and it had seemed like this military stuff just wasn’t for him after all. Since he was preparing to leave anyway, he’d decided to damn the consequences, finally saying exactly what had been on his mind when Miller had started barking orders at 4 a.m. that rainy Sunday morning. But he hadn’t anticipated this reaction, hadn’t thought anyone else would care what he did or said. Did he really want to leave with this kind of a reputation following behind him?_

_“A head full of rocks, huh?” a still frowning Chris asked softly._

_“Heh, yeah. In my defense, that was before I knew you.” Buck raised both his hands, accidentally jerking the pot, that he had momentarily forgotten he still held, so that it splashed soapy water all over his front. “Shit! Good thing I had this apron on, wouldn’t want to go to the ladies after this looking like I pissed myself. Thanks, man, I owe you one. I have a tip on handling Miller, if you’re interested?”_

_Frown replaced by a growing smile, Chris decided that maybe, just maybe, it would be worth the effort of sticking around to improve his bad reputation. After all, it seemed he wouldn’t be doing it all alone anymore, and Buck was a pretty interesting fellow. Maybe they could work something out._

…Larabee took an immediate liking to the gregarious, younger-by-a-year teen with his relaxed, cheerful attitude. The tall, dark-haired youth was easygoing and always in a good mood, but also had a rarely seen serious side. The Las Vegas native related to Chris that he had joined the military right out of high school due to a lack of funds and no real world prospects. He was at this boot camp because of the luck of the draw, literally. He’d picked the Navy out of a hat full of scraps of paper with the names of military branches written on them. Over the years, both Chris and Buck would come to be very grateful for that random choice; their friendship saved their Navy careers before they really even started, and it would even save their lives later on too.


	3. Forward Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three: a lot of hard work on the way forward.

**Chapter Three**

Bucklin “Buck” Wilmington was having trouble in boot camp because he didn’t apply himself much nor feel much like following most orders (especially the ones against fraternizing with the females on site). His problem was he didn’t have anything driving him to want to be there, he was simply aimless and thought he had no other options. 

Chris “the Bad Element” Larabee, on the other hand, had plenty of motive to stay and succeed, but he just didn’t have it in him to follow other people’s orders all day and shut up about it (he’d pretty much been his own boss his whole life up until now). It also didn’t help that he had a bit of a temper and the commanding officers seemed to love pushing his buttons. 

The two of them were on the verge of either getting kicked out of the program or dropping themselves out when their budding friendship led to unexpected results. Not only were they surprised by the turn around but so were their superiors. As their friendship grew and evolved, so did they. Buck’s influence helped stabilize Chris, keeping him from losing his temper so often. The younger man also taught his high-strung friend how to go with the flow and make orders his own, instead of fighting against authority all of the time. While Chris helped give Buck a new purpose in life by sharing his own personal goals and the reasoning behind them, soon turning a directionless cad into another motivated SEAL wannabe. He also tried to keep his love crazy bud out of the women’s quarters (it was a losing battle, but he figured it was worth the effort of trying anyway).

Inevitably, they both finished boot camp with flying colors (with Chris even earning a new improved reputation: one for having good leadership skills). Together the two young men signed up for SEAL instruction and finally found their niche. They were relentless and had no trouble motivating each other and staying focused. 

Both young men concentrated and put their all into the preparatory classes needed before actual SEAL training could begin. They appreciated their dive prep class because not only did they learn much needed basic diving skills (neither Chris nor Buck had ever dove before), but the instructor was also very helpful in letting them know what more would be expected of them later in SEAL classes. 

They thought “A” School (basic specializations training) was interesting and insightful, and Chris chose to learn the role of an intelligence specialist while Buck studied for machinery repairman. They figured those were two skills that would come in handy later on in life; when they became SEAL team members instead of regular Navy officers and possibly even after their Navy careers were over. 

They both passed the PST (Physical Screening Test, or in Buck’s words “a stepped-up high school physical fitness exam”) near the top of their class. To be competitive they had to complete a 500-yard swim using breast or combat side stroke in 10 minutes, do 79 push-ups in 2 minutes, do 79 sit-ups in 2 minutes, do 11 pull-ups from a dead hang (no time limit, thank goodness), and run 1.5 miles in boots and long pants in 10 minutes, 20 seconds. It was pretty much a piece of cake for both the athletic young men, especially after boot camp training. After that they waited in PTRR (Physical Training Rest and Recuperation) until enough SEAL candidates had arrived on site to start the real SEAL training.

Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training (BUD/S) consisted of: water warfare skills, physical skills, diving skills, drown proofing (which both young men thought consisted of way too much of doing almost the opposite), stamina conditioning, water recon skills, underwater demolition skills, underwater navigation, equipment familiarity, land warfare skills, hand-to-hand combat skills, marksmanship with firearms, and using all their skills as a unit in simulated missions. 

Without major injury, and with excellent scores, both Chris and Buck passed all phases of BUD/S - including the infamous hell week (after which about 90% of their class had rung the bell to quit or were dropped due to injury). Their strong friendship and good leadership skills also allowed them to help a number of their fellow candidates pass with them.

In order to fully graduate, the remaining trainees needed to pass the FTX (Final Field Training Exercise), which was held over a period of five days and nights. Each squad entered isolation to begin the mission planning process, then they had to conduct four back-to-back night operations utilizing most of the commando skills taught to them during the last six months of BUD/S training. 

This was an exhaustive yet exhilarating time for both young SEAL trainees. It brought to a culmination the long days and nights of their intensive, and comprehensive, Navy training. Chris had quickly earned his boat crew’s team leader position back in phase one and soon after had appointed Buck as his second (they were either really lucky to be named to the same boat crew or someone had put in a good word for them, they never figured out which), and they were both extremely proud when, in the end, their crew graduated the most trainees out of all of the squads. 

After 6 months in BUD/S the two graduates moved on to SEAL Qualification Training (SQT); SQT was another arduous 6-month program that consisted of learning the basic skill sets required to join a working SEAL Team (each SEAL Team consists of around 300 personnel including troops and support staff, they include several platoons with about 40 men each in them, and each platoon can then be divided into 4 smaller squads which can be even further divided up into fire teams). It was during this training time that our two boys crisscrossed the nation traveling from one specialization area to another. 

They traversed the US together, traveling from one Navy base to another as their different classes called for a change in locale. Sometimes they were in California (Chris enjoyed the ocean beaches; Buck enjoyed the pretty women in bikinis), other times were spent in Virginia (Chris liked the horses; Buck liked the pretty, horse-riding females), they were even in Alaska for a while (both men declared it way too cold, plus the women there wore layers covering all their best features). They were truly coming into their own and enjoying every second of it.

Chris and Buck attended a sequential course of classes to teach them more advanced skills in the areas of: TACAIR (tactical air maneuvers and operations, including jumping out of planes with static line and freefall), SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training), TACMED (tactical medicine), Communications, Cold Weather/Mountaineering, Maritime Operations, Combat Swimmer, Land Warfare (small unit tactics, light and heavy weapons, and demolitions), and Close Quarters Combat. It was in one of their SQT classes that the boys experienced skydiving for the first time… 

_‘What the hell am I doing?’ Chris thought to himself as he fiddled with a strap on his parachute rig. He looked around the plane, sneaking a glance out the window next to him, only blue skies and white fluffy clouds as far as the eye could see. ‘I hated doing this before, when I was strapped to someone who knew what they were doing and actually enjoyed it. God, what if I forget something!’_

_The nervous blond turned to his best friend, “Remind me again, just why am I jumping out of a perfectly good airplane?”_

_“Because you want to pass the class and become a real SEAL.” Buck laughed and answered for the third time. “Oh, yeah, and he says so.” He added this time while pointing over to their large, muscled instructor, who was currently giving another student’s equipment a shake down._

_Chris winced as the unlucky trainee got a dressing down for not properly securing an open pocket. He then blinked and quickly checked to ensure that his own pockets were secure. He let out a shaky laugh as he caught the brunette next to him doing the same._

_“Guess you’re not nearly as confident as you’re pretending,” smirked Larabee._

_“Nah, I totally am, it just pays to be careful is all. Don’t want to get one of Boss’ special punishments.” Buck responded with a twinkle in his eyes. He knew Chris was scared shitless of going on his first solo jump, thus it was his right, nay, his duty, as best-friend-for-life, to give him a ton of shit about it. “That might mess up my date with Kathy.”_

_Chris scowled. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that Buck had to be planning to tease him, but he wasn’t mad at him about it, not yet anyway. He was just pissed off at himself because he was being so transparent about his own nervousness. He wasn’t frightened, not really, at least not in any bad way, although the old adrenaline sure was pumping. He wasn’t afraid of heights or anything like that, he just wasn’t too keen on leaving a plane in perfect working order in order to fall thousands of feet to the ground while hanging under a glorified bed sheet._

_“How you think you’re going to sneak out on a date in the middle of all this training, and right under Boss’s nose, I still haven’t figured out. You’re good, but you’re not that good,” ‘at least not yet’ the young blond finished in his head. No need to help inflate the Casanova’s already swelled head more by saying it aloud though._

_“I’ll manage, don’t you worry your pretty blond head none about that, darlin’, Ole Bucklin has a few tricks left up his sleeves just yet.” Buck smiled slyly while tugging on the wrists of his Navy SEAL flight suit and waited for the expected explosion._

_“Thought I told you to quit calling me that,” Chris spared his friend a brief glare before his attention returned to a few feet away where their instructor was checking over another trainee’s parachute. His hands once again copied the movements, ghosting over all the straps and fastenings he could reach on his own gear._

_‘Huh,’ Buck thought, ‘that could barely be considered a reprimand; hardly a glare to go with it too, and no explosion in sight. What a pity.’ Of course, that must mean that the poor old boy was even more upset about this jumping business than Buck had first assumed. That meant he needed to call in the big guns._

_“You did, and if you’ll recall, I believe I said no.” Buck grinned, then when he saw the hands still and met the expected glower, he jumped right in with a question, not waiting to hear the obvious warning to come. “So, why are you being such a scaredy-cat about this? It’s not like it’s something you haven’t already done before.”_

_Chris halted his automatic comeback surprised by such a direct query. He did not much care for the wording chosen though, it made him feel like a frightened child. He frowned in displeasure before replying, “I’m not being a ‘scaredy-cat’, I’m just feeling a little cautious. And I haven’t done this before, and neither have you! And what are you ten? Who says ‘scaredy-cat’ as an adult? Really now.”_

_Buck snorted in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “As sure as my animal magnetism, you are displaying all of the signs of a nervous filly. I’d think you were about to be deflowered in the back of a Volvo if I didn’t know better.”_

_Quickly smothered laughter drifted their way coming from a few of the other jumpers close enough to them to overhear their conversation above the noise of the engines. Since quite a few of them had also been acting like nervy foals, Buck didn’t think they had much right to titter, but maybe if they kept listening it’d distract their minds from the jump to come. The more relaxed they were, the better for their group’s scores; oh, and the more likely the fools were to not screw up and die._

_“And all sorts of people say ‘scaredy-cat’ just ask the lovely Bonnie in supplies,” he quickly added before Chris could stop seething and jump in with a retort to his last statement._

_“I…you…that…arg!” Chris spluttered._

_“Very eloquent. Exactly the reason you were elected team leader.” The brunette rolled his eyes and smiled. “You’re going to be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”_

_Larabee gaped at the beaming idiot with incredulity. ‘What’s the worst that could happen? Well, Death, hello! And death was pretty bad in his book.’_

_“I could die! Or you could,” he continued aloud. “Though that’s no longer such an awful thought.”_

_“Ah, I see. You don’t want me to go splat on my first solo. Yeah, you’re right, that would be embarrassing.” Wilmington nodded._

_“Plus, you’d be dead, you moron. Think of it - no more women. Ever.” Chris said dryly._

_“Well, that sure is looking on the negative side of things, Downer Dude. And I don’t know what heaven you’re planning on going to, but for mine, behind those pearly gates lies the promised land, man: Marilyn Monroe. Need I say more?”_

_The older boy snapped his friend out of a bombshell induced haze with a punch to the arm. “You’re an idiot.”_

_“Maybe so, but you, my dear Downer Dude, are now smiling. Look on the bright side. Think positive, Chris.” Buck entreated with a mock hopeful look._

_With a thoughtful expression, the blond played along, kind of. “I’m positive I could land on you when I pull my chute and nothing happens. I’m positive I could aim straight for that giant pompadour you call hair on the top of your head. How’s that for positive thinking?”_

_“Not exactly the kind of positive I was looking for, bud, but I guess it’ll do.” Buck reflected for a moment on the image painted in his head by the words of his dearest friend. Like Chris, he too ignored the renewed snickers coming from the students surrounding them. “We would create a lovely splatter on the landscape. It could be a new art type. They would call it ‘The Death of Wilmington’ and trainees from all of the squads would be brought in to view it.”_

_“Yeah, as a warning of what’ll happen to you if you screw up. Art as deterrent - the Navy’s next brilliant idea. And why is it named ‘The Death of Wilmington’ instead of ‘The Great Aim of Larabee’?” Chris asked with a smirk._

_“Ooh, a good question,” nodded Buck seriously. “I’m glad you asked it. It was named by a woman, of course. The lovely Bonnie, most likely. You know the females of the species would all miss me dearly. You’re just lucky they didn’t name it something like ‘The Death of the Awesome Bucklin by the Villainous Christopher’.”_

_Chris couldn’t keep a straight face at that, and as he started laughing he heard the rest of the men around them join in, some shouting comments out to Buck calling his supposed expertise with women into question. Buck good naturedly fended them off and kept the smack talk going until the instructor stood before him with a lifted brow._

_“Right. Sorry, Sir.” He apologized, with a smile and complete insincerity. The Boss just snorted and checked over Wilmington’s gear before moving on to Larabee, the last trainee in line, and checking his kit extra firm. The man wasn’t deaf after all. With a quick pat of approval he left the two properly fitted men and went to open the jump hatch._

_As wind rushed by the opening and it became nearly impossible to hear anything over the roaring sound, Chris leaned over to yell into Buck’s ear._

_“Thanks, man. Now remember rule one: don’t die.”_

_Buck met determined aqua eyes with his own shining blues and nodded decisively before turning back to face the front of the line and begin moving forward. He was looking forward to this, unlike his best friend, he liked skydiving._

_Chris watched as the instructor (better known as Boss) sent student after student flying out into the air with a hand on their back, a few with a bit harder of a shove than others. Then it was Buck’s turn. The gregarious brunette turned one last time to shoot a huge joyful smile at Chris before he leapt out of the opening, gone almost before the hand could come to a complete rest on his body._

_‘Just great’ Chris thought. ‘That’s all I need, for him to develop more of an adrenaline addiction.’_

_As he stepped up and peered out into the blue sky, and saw both clouds as well as the ground far below him, he felt his heartbeat pick up and his limbs shake a bit. Oh, how he’d love to be able to stick to normal landings from the inside of planes in the future, unfortunately, as a SEAL he often wouldn’t have that option. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the nothingness as he felt the hand finally land on his own shoulder._

…needless to say, not all classes were enjoyed equally by both men. However, after nearly two years of hard work and supreme dedication, the two finally earned their tridents and became official Navy SEALs. 

As a surprise present to Chris, his whole family showed up to the graduation ceremony to cheer for him. After the festivities, Chris was delighted to finally be able to physically introduce his family to the best friend he constantly wrote and talked about. To say they all loved the easygoing Vegas native would be an understatement. 

And when Anne Larabee found out Buck Wilmington had no other family, she immediately adopted him into hers (to the mild consternation of her daughters, who thought the Navy man was way too fine to treat like just another brother). By the time the Larabee family left, after spending a few days reaffirming their connection with their rebellious one and starting to form a connection with his new sidekick, Chris was as proud of Buck as he was of himself, maybe more so.


	4. Formation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four: "The self is not something ready-made, but something in continuous formation through choice of action." - John Dewey

**Chapter Four**

Chris considered himself lucky to have been able to go through all of his Navy training alongside Buck. He was extremely lucky to have had commanding officers that recognized just how good for each other, and the morale of others, they were together. This meant they were nearly always placed on the same team, to the betterment of the whole team’s interpersonal dynamics. That good luck continued on in their SEAL assignments when they requested a posting together and, thanks to impressive scores, good behavior, and outstanding recommendations from a few COs, they received it. 

After the two men joined up with the rest of their cohort in their newly assigned SEAL Team, they joined the troops that were broken up into smaller platoons. Once again, Chris and Buck were lucky enough to be placed together into the same platoon. Then they started training all over again, only now it was as a platoon and they would be learning much more advanced tactics and maneuvers both as individuals and as groups. 

First, they had to train for an 18-month period (called work-up), both individually and as a platoon. Phase One of their work-up was a six month Professional Development block better known as PRODEV. In PRODEV they each individually attended a number of different schools and courses. These schools eventually led to each member of the platoon obtaining required certifications and designations that collectively allowed the platoon to perform as an operational combat team. 

Among the many courses Chris took were: Advanced Weapons Training, Leadership School, Foreign Weapons, and Advanced Special Operations. He had his eye on an eventual leadership position. He knew he had come a long way from “the Bad Element” he was once considered in basic training.

Some courses Buck took were: Technical Surveillance, Advanced Driving Skills (Urban/Rural/Security), Advanced Special Operations, and Advanced Air Operations: HALO/HAHO/Jumpmaster/Parachute Rigger and Packer. It seems he really had developed a bit of an addiction to the adrenaline rush of skydiving. 

Phase Two of their work-up was called Unit Level Training (ULT) and it was another six month block of training. For ULT the SEALs trained as a platoon, and both Chris and Buck were happy to be back working with each other on a regular basis. They had already gotten to know the other men in their platoon pretty well, but this phase let them all begin to really come together and gel as a true team. 

Their platoon received instruction in some of the core mission areas: Land Warfare, Close Quarters Combat, Urban Warfare, Maritime Interdiction, Combat Swimmer, Long Range Interdiction, Air Operations, Special Reconnaissance and Maritime Operations, and Advanced Marksmanship/Heavy Weapons. Their platoon did well in all areas, and, luckily, had no major setbacks or personality clashes amongst its members. Chris and Buck especially worked hard to iron out any interpersonal kinks they noticed amongst the men before the small hitches could escalate into large fiascos.

Phase Three of the work-up was called Squadron Integration Training. SIT training involved the six platoons that made up their SEAL Team conducting advanced training with the rest of the supporting attachments of a SEAL Team Squadron (Special Boat Squadrons, Medical Teams, EOD, Interpreters, Intelligence/HUMINT Teams, Cryptological Support Teams, etc.). SIT didn’t go quite as smoothly as ULT had, but it wasn’t through any fault of Chris or Buck so they didn’t worry about it, they let their CO do that instead (that was pretty much what he was there for after all).

After six long months of practice missions and rehearsal skirmishes with the other platoons and teams, their team was finally ready for CERTEX - the final Certification Exercise. Buck and Chris knew their comrades well, and were able to ensure that the anticipation charged atmosphere leading up to the big test never degenerated into too much anxiety to handle. When the time came, everyone was ready to work hard and have fun doing it.

CERTEX was organized so that the entire SEAL Team had parts to play (in order to check the platoons’ operation synchronicity under the Task Group umbrella). Their SEAL Team had no problems passing, with Chris and Buck’s platoon leading the way (both on the field and in scores). Following CERTEX, their SEAL Team became part of a SEAL Squadron and left for six months active deployment in which real missions were fielded.

Chris really came into his own during platoon training, showing a real aptitude for leadership and earning the position of 2IC (Second in Charge) right away. He also showed promise in his advanced specialization classes and in tactics and strategy training. Buck was always there to help him gage the team’s temperament and assist in mediating any in-team disputes, and he always asked for Buck’s input on mission planning…

_Chris and Buck were in the smaller conference room going over some mission files, attempting to rough out a basic strategy and team lineup to bring to the pre-mission planning session set for later that day. They were the only ones in the room and were taking full advantage of that fact to be completely candid with each other. And to lean their chairs back and put their feet up on the table, oh wait, no, that was just Buck._

_“You really think we should have Levinson and Wells pair-up on this one?” Buck questioned his best friend’s judgment on that call. It was common knowledge that the two men were presently having a serious dispute about ‘Star Wars’ versus ‘Star Trek’ and couldn’t keep from arguing for more than 10 seconds at a time when in the same room. Well, at least Buck had thought it was common knowledge. “You do realize that they currently hate each other, right?”_

_“What?” Chris asked in confusion, looking up from studying the map laid out on the table before him. “Since when? I thought they were best friends?”_

_“That was last week.“ Buck rolled his eyes at his oblivious bud. “Don’t you ever pay attention to the scuttlebutt?“_

_“Apparently not.” Chris muttered with an annoyed frown. “How bad are things? Can they be trusted to stay professional for the duration of the op?”_

_“Oh, they can be trusted alright.” Buck smirked as he settled his hands behind his head and relaxed. “If you want to listen to ‘The Top Ten Reasons Why Han Solo Could Kick Captain Kirk’s Ass’ 24/7, or endure a lecture on ‘Warp Speed versus Light Speed’ for hours on end, or maybe be told the bad guys are enemy stormtroopers/klingons attacking, then go right ahead and assign them both. But if you want to not shoot yourself in the head before the end of the op….”_

_Chris blinked in shock. “You are not serious.”_

_“As a heart attack.” Buck replied with a sigh. “Yesterday, I made the mistake of asking what the difference was between the two, after all, they both start with ‘Star’ and have sexy lady folk, so why choose only one, right?”_

_“I have a feeling that didn’t go over too well.” Chris leaned back in his seat and grinned at the hang dog expression on the brunette’s face._

_“Well, it was going okay at first, with each guy trying to outdo the other with sexier and sexier female characters and outfits, that was a bit of alright,” Buck leered. “Then the metal bikini got brought up and things took an ugly turn. After all, how do you top that? You resort to your momma jokes, that’s how.”_

_“What!?” Chris laughed shaking his head. “Tell me they didn’t.”_

_“Oh, they did. Mears had to help me pry them apart. For such little guys they sure do have strong grips.” Buck added wryly._

_Chris sniggered at the mental image he had of Wells and Levinson locked in battle like a couple of run down boxers clinging to each other to stay upright. Adding in Buck and Mears as overtaxed referees was just icing._

_“Sure, you can laugh about it. But I have to live with the nightmares.” Buck pouted at the giggling blond. “I had no idea there were that many horrible ‘Yo Mama’ jokes in existence.”_

_Still snickering to himself, Chris reached out to grab his pencil off the table and used it to draw a line through the names of both Wells and Levinson. “Don’t want to even chance it.” He explained to Buck at the other man’s questioning look._

_“Good call, pal.”_

_“…so, what do you think about Harris and Osbourne for the op instead?”_

…as things changed over the years and Chris gained command of his own SEAL platoon, the fact that Buck was Chris’s right hand man, his own 2IC, never changed. And he always brought his brother-in-arms home with him on every holiday they had leave together; the family back in the U.S. always insisting that the lighthearted adopted Larabee join them for their celebrations.


	5. Flirting Fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Five: if at first you don’t succeed - blame Buck - then try, try again (and again and again...).

**Chapter Five**

One day a mission went pear-shaped (not a completely rare occurrence) and both Chris and Buck ended up injured and having to spend time in a Navy hospital (also not a totally rare occurrence). They were placed in the same room to recuperate, as the boys were well known to the staff at this hospital for their contrary behavior when separated, and their friendly banter was soon entertaining nurses on both the day and night shifts. 

There was one specific newly transferred night duty nurse that Chris noticed Buck seemed to have his eyes set on. The rogue flirted shamelessly with her, and she had no problems returning in kind. She was pretty enough, Chris supposed, in a girl-next-door kind of way, but all too opinionated and hard-headed for his own tastes. The damn woman just wouldn’t take ‘No, I do not need a sponge bath right now, thanks.’ for an answer, and she was always interrupting his naps to ask inane questions. 

Chris just didn’t like her and had no compunction about letting her know that he didn’t. Of course, that was made easier by the fact that she didn’t care, and said she wasn’t too fond of him and his attitude either. Chris just couldn’t understand how Buck could be so enamored with Sarah Connelly. 

It turns out that Buck liked the girl well enough himself, but what he really thought was that she and Chris were perfect for each other… 

_“I think you should ask her out.” The mustached man stated as he watched the slender female stomp from the room in an annoyed huff after his best friend had gotten her riled up by refusing to cooperate while she changed his bandages. The pretty filly was always leaving their shared room in a fit of one sort or another when Chris was awake. Buck thought the foreplay was cute - in an inept, awkward, ‘we have no idea what we’re doing’ kind of way._

_“What?” Chris barked in shock. His head snapping away from the amusing spectacle exiting the door so he could stare wide eyed at the occupant of the bed to the left of his own. Buck lay relaxed back onto several pillows with his left leg up in traction, and he was holding a bowl of jiggling dessert. He watched as the brunette took another bite of strawberry Jell-O and wasn’t jealous at all, not one little bit. Besides, he preferred lime flavor, or so he’d keep right on telling himself._

_“I think you ought to ask the beautiful Sarah out on a date.” Buck restated more firmly, turning to face Larabee, spoon in mouth and eyes honest. He almost ruined his earnest front, though, when he noticed the slight pout and aqua eyes alight with desire for his sweet snack. He’d have to remember to tease the blond about his Jell-O envy later._

_Chris tilted his head and furrowed his brows at the now empty doorway mentally reviewing the subject of their conversation storming out, he let out a small automatic snicker at the image. Then he stopped for half a moment to actually think about the idea, this led to a chuckle, then a chortle. Eventually he was grasping his injured side and wincing as he shook with mirth; the more he laughed the more it hurt._

_“Don’t make me laugh.” He gasped, trying to calm down and get the pain to stop._

_Buck frowned. He didn’t think his suggestion was that funny. Slightly amusing, maybe, but not gut busting._

_When Chris finally stopped laughing and noticed the sober look on his usually exuberant bud’s face, he realized that his best friend had been serious. So, he did what he knew he had to: he hit the brunet with a well-aimed pillow._

_“Hey! Watch it, buddy, that almost made me spill.” Buck couldn’t quite dodge the pillow, having a leg hogtied doesn’t give a man much room for movement, so he took the hit on his arm instead of his head._

_“Too bad.” Chris said sourly, not liking the dating idea at all and still a little stung that he hadn’t rated any Jell-O at all, not even the dreaded cherry flavor._

_“I’m keeping this now, I hope you know.” The thrown pillow made its way into the bunch already propping up the wounded younger man._

_Chris glared, but Buck was, unfortunately, immune to even his blackest of looks. There wasn’t much he could actually do to get his ammunition back though, short of begging, and he’d sleep without any pillows on a stone cold floor before being reduced to that. Regrettably, walking himself over and taking it back was out of the question. He’d tried to get up and walk earlier in the day, against doctor’s orders, and he’d regretted it as soon as he’d hit vertical. Subsequently, he had regretted it even more when the nurse on duty had had to come rescue him from the floor. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping off the resulting pain killers._

_He could call for a nurse now, he supposed, but then immediately vetoed the idea. With the way his luck had been lately he’d wind up summoning the very subject of their discussion, and then blabbermouth over there would say something embarrassing for sure. He refused to think about why that idea bothered him so much._

_“Fine, keep it. I don’t need it anyway.” He sniffed as he tried to settle more contentedly on his now one pillow bed. He was glad that the other man had dropped the ridiculous dating subject at least. He shot a glare at the on looking pillow thief. The contrary bastard wasn’t supposed to keep the damn thing: he was supposed to throw it back. Some best friend he was._

_The amused brunette continued slurping his strawberry flavored sweet as he watched his injured friend squirm and shift about looking highly uncomfortable. Eventually all the repositioning stopped as the blond realized he was pretty much screwed and there were no better arrangements to move into._

_“Maybe she’d give you Jell-O then too.” Buck couldn’t help but state, giving in to his mischievous side. Plus, this conversational turn allowed him the pleasure of mixing his two new favorite topics: Jell-O envy and Sarah Connelly. “If you two were dating, I mean.”_

_“Are you still going on about that?” Chris groaned, slumping back to lie flat and glare at the ceiling in annoyance._

_Buck ignored him and continued on: “Or, maybe not. You do complain an awful lot, not really worthy of the Jell-O-ee goodness, are you?”_

_“I am too worthy!” Snapped the blond as he rose up slightly from his prone position. His envy getting the better of his common sense for a moment. He really did like the Jell-O here, it was almost the only thing worth eating when stuck in hospital._

_Buck just raised a doubtful brow at him, spoon frozen on the way back to the bowl._

_“I don’t complain that much.” The indignant man insisted, unconsciously pursing his lips in a pout at the unfairness of getting no dessert._

_“Uh-huh. So that wasn’t you just a few moments ago giving our poor nurse an apoplexy over routine bandage changes?” His mustache twitched as his lips curled into a smile, and he ate another bite of dessert. Chris was so much fun to tease when he was hopped up on pain meds; they brought out the little boy inside the usually serious man._

_Chris blinked, then scowled towards the door the aforementioned nurse had stormed out of. “I wasn’t that bad. She just doesn’t listen to me and is too touchy.”_

_“I don’t mind her being touchy.” The ladies man put extra emphasis on the last word._

_“Not that kind of touchy.” Snorted Chris. “She’s a pain and all we do is argue. What on earth makes you think I would ever want to ask her out on a date?”_

_“Can you imagine the sex?” Buck asked with a big grin._

_“Is that all you ever think about?” Queried the blond with a frown, rolling his eyes as he lay back down to try and sleep._

_Wilmington just smirked and finished off his Jell-O, letting the conversation come to a stop. He knew his best friend like the back of his hand, and he had already developed the best plan of attack if he was going to succeed in getting Chris and Sarah together. If he just waited for the two of them to clue in, there’d never even be a first date at all._

_Buck knew it was going to take a lot of continued effort over the next few days on his part to get the stubborn idiot to open his eyes and see the perfection standing right in front of him with her hands on her hips. And then even more effort on his buddy’s part to get the passionate young woman to agree. But a little helpful shove to the libido, by way of naughty mental images before bed, would go a long way towards helping his cause. Sarah was a pretty little spitfire after all._

_************************************************_

_It took several days of near constant badgering and cajoling from Buck, but Chris did finally give in and genuinely consider the nurse as a potential date. What he realized when he did, was something Buck had noticed from the beginning: the potential was there for the creation of an amazing relationship between the two of them. There was some real chemistry behind all of the bickering they did._

_Chris was rather shocked when he figured out how much he actually liked the arguing and how the nurse never backed down from a fight, even with him. Sarah had gumption and gall, and could out snark him on even his best days. He now knew why he pissed her off so badly she would storm out of the room - it was the only way he could find to win an argument with her!_

_“What am I going to do? She hates me!” He turned worried eyes to his best-friend-for-life and begged for advice. “You get women all of the time. Tell me what to say!”_

_It was nearly 8 o’clock in the evening, soon Sarah would be stopping in at the beginning of her shift to check on the two of them. Chris had finally decided that it was worth it to act, and had gathered enough courage to ask her out tonight. Buck was looking forward to the show._

_Buck nodded, masking his inner laughter and forcing a serious look onto his face. “Well, I always start with a compliment. You have gorgeous green eyes, what lovely blond hair you have, that is such a pretty shirt and it really brings out your perfect skin tone; you know, stuff like that.”_

_“Right, compliments. I can totally do that. Then what?” Wide, anxious eyes glanced from the doorway to the neighboring bed and back again._

_Buck again stifled the urge to burst into riotous laughter, he’d never seen his self-assured friend so uncertain before, and all over a little slip of a woman. Usually it was him that went stupid over the females and Chris who was the pillar of sanity. The reverse was damn amusing._

_“Well, after compliments come more compliments, then quiet conversation: try and get her interested in you. After that you can suggest that the two of you get to know each other better, and ask her out. It isn’t rocket science, you know.”_

_A shaky glare, not one of Larabee’s best - hell, it wasn’t even in the top ten - was shot his way. Before the blond could follow up with a halfhearted rebuttal Sarah walked into the room. Her head was down, busy looking over a file of some sort, or else she would have noticed the stricken, panicked look that flashed across Chris’s face before he managed to compose himself. Buck had to stare at the ceiling and fight back a giggle fit._

_“Good evening, Bucklin.” Sarah said smiling over at the gregarious Navy SEAL as she made her way to his side._

_“Howdy, darlin’,” Buck drawled. She liked the slight accent he sometimes revealed. As he caught sight of the black look aimed his way from across the room he had to fight back another attack of the giggles. He’d been getting those looks ever since he had refused to stop talking sweetly to the lady while Chris gathered his nerve to ask her out._

_“Larabee.” She nodded briefly at Chris before turning her attention back to her good patient. She had gotten into the habit of putting off seeing to Larabee until the last moment trying to stave off another argument for just a little longer._

_“Sarah,” Chris managed to squeak out. The use of her first name earned him an incredulous stare that morphed into a suspicious look. He hurried on when it looked like she was going to say something: “You, uh, you sure do have beautiful green eyes. And such lovely hair. And is that a new shirt? I like it.”_

_Sarah cast a slow look down at her Navy issued nurses uniform as she thought about the messy ponytail she had barely managed to stuff her hair up into (today was a very bad hair day). Then blinked in confusion as his first words came back to her. She didn’t have green eyes._

_Buck closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘Poor man. It was nice knowing him.’ Then he snapped his eyes back open and settled in to watch the fireworks. ‘This should be good.’_

_“What do you think you are doing?” She snapped at the hopeful looking blond on the other bed, her hands automatically going through the motions required to check on Wilmington._

_“Uh, giving you a compliment?” Chris asked in confusion, somehow knowing that that was the wrong answer yet unable to think of anything better to say. He glanced at Buck for help, but was annoyed to see the brunette sitting there with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face, just watching as his best friend’s feeble attempt to be suave crashed and burned. 'No help from the peanut gallery.' Guess he had to have his own back this time._

_“Is this some kind of sick joke?” The now angry female demanded as she finished with Buck and stormed over to tower above the seated Chris, hitting him with a glare every bit as lethal as one of his own. The bedridden man shifted slightly, moving to meet her glower head on._

_“No?” The blond winced at how lame that sounded and tried again, looking up into eyes sparking with anger. Eyes that were not green. Ah, shit. Stupid Buck. “No. It’s not a joke.”_

_“Really. What is it then, hmm?” She interrupted sarcastically and started to check his vitals and bandaging. Not being as gentle as she could have been, her fury and hurt leaving the usually nimble fingers feeling heavy and clumsy instead._

_“I was - ouch! Watch it!” He snapped as one of her tugs pulled just a little too hard on a still healing area._

_“Sorry.” She smiled at him sweetly, and totally insincerely, and carried on just as forcefully as before. The slight guilt she might have felt at the rough treatment buried under her smoldering anger at his inability to recall her eye color. She had been halfway to believing his crappy lie about her hair too, before she’d realized he was just finding a new way to give her a hard time. Just like always._

_“I was trying to ask you out, okay!” He glared. And brought his hands out to defend against her painful poking and prodding. “I think we should get to know each other better.”_

_“Ah-ha!” She exclaimed, so that was his game. She scribbled down the info from this check-up in his file as she gave him a piece of her mind. “If you think that I would ever, ever, sleep with you, well, then you are heavily mistaken, pal.”_

_“What? That’s not -” Chris spluttered, his eyes wide and filled with confusion once more. He raised his hands in defeat. This conversation had gone totally out of his control._

_“Especially after you can’t even remember the color of my eyes!” She shrieked, then stormed out, stopping only long enough to give Chris a new death glare before slamming the door to their room. Her angry voice and low screams of outrage could still be heard through the closed door as she stomped away down the hall._

_Chris watched her go feeling completely baffled. Apparently, he really sucked at this romance shit._

_“What just happened here?” He asked puzzled, staring at the empty room._

_Buck couldn’t hold it in anymore at that; the laughter he’d been forced to bottle up burst out in loud guffaws. He felt like he couldn’t breathe for laughing. This was one of the funniest incidents he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Every time he thought he had himself under control and would be able to begin straightening his sad friend out, he’d look over at that irritated, yet oh-so-charmingly befuddled face, and the laughter would start up again, just as bad as before._

_“Oh, shut up.” Snarled the blond, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out at the world. Next time, he’d do things his way. No more of that fake compliment bullshit._

_***************************************_

_It took Chris eight more tries, over the next three nights, to get the skeptical girl to agree to a date; hell, it took him three tries the first night just to convince her to stay in the room when he started to speak. In the end, he had to threaten to never leave her alone again if she didn’t agree to at least one date. Buck thought the whole thing hilarious and was never any help due to his inability to speak without laughing. But he made sure to take all the credit when they became a happy, if exceedingly prone to arguing, couple._

…three months later, after many dates during Chris’s recovery period and even more during his every leave, after more than a letter a day and many a phone call shared, they were engaged. Within another three months time there was a small military wedding with Buck standing as best-man, maid-of-honor, ring bearer, and witness: he was pleased to be so loved and trusted by them both as to be chosen for the special jobs. He, once again, absolutely took all credit for the initiation of their happy union.


	6. Foreplay Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six: foreplay - an increase in the levels of stimulation before an event. A.K.A. our newlyweds know how to have fun.

**Chapter Six**

Not long after the big day the newly married twosome requested joint leave so they could spend it delivering, in person, the joyful news to their loved ones. The trip would also be a kind of unofficial honeymoon for them. They decided to visit Kansas and the Larabee family first, as that would most likely prove to be the longer and happier visit. 

Chris’s family was larger and much more social than Sarah’s family, and he was positive they would like her while she was sure her father wouldn’t much care for him. Buck wished them the best of luck when he saw their flight off at the airport, him not being able to get a joint leave this time around and not really wanting to be a third wheel on the almost honeymoon trip. 

Chris was delighted to be able to bring his new bride home to meet the rest of his family. He had spoken about her before, but rarely, as he just wasn’t the type to gush aloud about his romantic relationships, even when the girl was perfect for him and made him exceedingly happy. So his family had no idea that he was so serious about the young lady he sometimes mentioned. They were shocked when he introduced Sarah as Mrs. Christopher Larabee, but her cheerful, fiery attitude won them over near instantly. Before long, she was beloved as one of their own.

On the other hand, his immediate family and relatives were more than a bit upset to have missed the wedding, especially his mother and sisters. To make up for it, they threw the pair a large reception, inviting everyone they knew to come party the night away. Chris had fun introducing his new bride to some old girlfriends; Sarah more than holding her own against any sharp tongues. He also managed to spend some time catching up with his old high school buddy, Ollie Olson, who Sarah was thrilled to be able to pump for old embarrassing stories about Chris. She spent the remainder of the night calling her husband Romeo and giggling.

The couple emerged from the night with quite a few useful presents, and even more useless ones; what did one do with four toasters? Returns were made, money was put into a joint savings account, and household goods went into a storage facility (they would be wanted one day, they were mostly sure of that).

All gifts were accounted for and squirreled away, and ‘thank you’ notes were all mailed. All except for one. A matching Thoroughbred mare and stallion, a good start for a new herd and more than a bit of a hint to find a new line of work, was Chris’s parent's wedding present to the newlyweds. It was one gift that couldn’t be put aside nor could their thanks be expressed through a simple card. The newly wed duo spent the rest of their stay attempting to communicate their appreciation.

Sarah had never done much riding before, so Chris enjoyed teaching her the basics and taking her out on trail rides. He also enjoyed showing her all of his favorite spots to stargaze…

_“So, just what amazing stars are we out here to gaze upon, Mr. Larabee, that they are out in the middle of the afternoon?” Sarah asked her husband with a flirtatious smile as she carefully adjusted her weight upon her horse’s back to turn and look at him. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you just wanted to get me all alone for some licentious reason.”_

_Chris smirked at her, even as he fought the urge to grin in pride over how well his pretty bride now sat her horse. “Now, why would I do that?”_

_Sarah was a quick study and had caught on to the correct, and incorrect, ways of horseback riding fairly easily. It didn’t hurt that she had a whole family full of volunteers to help her with her horsemanship. In fact, it was all of those entirely too helpful, always close by, said-same volunteers that necessitated this little trail ride, at least in Chris’s mind. For the past few days, it seemed every time he had tried for a little ‘alone time’ with his wife someone would pop-up out of nowhere and interrupt, usually with an offer of riding lessons. He had started to suspect a conspiracy of cock-blocking proportions._

_“Why, indeed. Could it be because you have been looking particularly frustrated today?” Sarah blinked innocent eyes at the blond now pulling his horse up next to her on the left as the path widened. “I hear there’s an easy cure for that. And as a nurse, I should know.”_

_“An easy cure, you say? Do tell.” Recognizing the playful banter as the foreplay it was, Chris was thankful his lover seemed to be on the same page as himself - page 69. And, god, that was a terrible pun, even in his own head. He really, really needed to get laid soon._

_“Oh, easy indeed, and it works for near everyone. But be warned, easy does not necessarily mean quick.” She warned with a pretend frown at him. “In fact, it could even take several hours.”_

_Chris hid his grin at that reply by turning his head away to look out over the little slice of nature they were riding through. He easily recognized where they were and reckoned they’d be at his special ‘stargazing’ clearing within the next half-hour._

_“Several hours you say? Well, I guess we’re lucky that no one will be expecting us back at the ranch for hours and hours yet. Can’t hope to see any good stars until it’s after dark anyway.” He stated with a serious nod._

_Sarah did so love the way her man’s mind worked. Not only was he affectionate and thoughtful when it came to sex, he was also creative. She suspects she probably has Buck to thank for a great deal of that, though surely not all of it. Chris and she had never had any trouble in the bedroom, not even a single argument of any kind about sex (though they had argued about damn near everything else), not from the very first moment their relationship went sexual._

_Neither of them was shy about telling their partner exactly what they wanted and they each truly enjoyed pleasing each other. They had always had a passionate kind of chemistry (even back when they couldn’t stand one another), and when they made the transition to lovers (not so long after they started dating actually) that chemistry expressed itself through a very healthy sex life. To be honest, lately she had missed the sex almost as much as her husband surely had._

_“Hmm…with all that time available I’m sure we can cure your frustrations with no problem, Sir.” Sarah’s eyes took on a mischievous glint as she continued blithely on, darting a sly glance sideways. “But what ever will we do with ourselves after those first five minutes? After all, us nurses have learned that just because it could take hours doesn’t necessarily mean that the patient can last for that long.”_

_Chris’s mouth dropped open in horror as he blinked at his wife in bemused shock. Had she just insinuated that he was a five-minute man? Those were fighting words. He knew that the inference was patently false; he had never left a woman unsatisfied and he hadn’t had any trouble lasting past five minutes since he was a teenager, damn it. She was so asking for it._

_“Oh, this patient has no trouble at all lasting as long as is needed and I’ve never had a complaint yet.” He snapped out while glaring at the always annoying love of his life. “As you dam well know!”_

_Sarah stifled her giggles at the wounded outrage she could see shining in those beloved eyes currently narrowed at her in ire. The sex was always so much more interesting when Chris felt he had something to prove. Plus, the arguing got their blood pumping and was a great stimulant for the both of them. “Really? No complaints you say? Why, that is a rare occurrence. I just may be in for a right treat after all.”_

_“Humph…and who says that I’m the one who has anything to prove anyway?” The annoyed blond grunts out as he shifts in his saddle and tries not to sulk. “Maybe it’ll be you who passes out from sheer pleasure long before I’m done. Ever think of that?”_

_“Honestly? No.” Then, hurriedly, before her touchy he-is-such-a-male man can take too much offense to her short response she adds, “But I’d not complain at all if that were the case.”_

_“Well, good. Better be prepared then.” Chris states casting a wary glance Sarah’s way. He feels he has somehow lost another argument, and yet with a goal such as that in mind, he’s not too sure he cares overly much. It really is such an enticing thought. Though he vows to keep that triumphant smirk on his wife’s face, which she’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding, in mind during their next disagreement. He’s bound to win one fight eventually…right?_

_“And just what exactly should I be preparing for, Mr. Larabee?” She widens her eyes and tries a naïve face out on the huffy blond shifting on his horse next to her. If she didn’t know better she might think that he was a newcomer to riding himself and that he was shifting about with nerves. But she’s pretty sure he has another reason entirely for the uncomfortable shifting he’s doing that is causing his horse to be so antsy._

_Not fooled for an instant by the faux-innocence directed his way, Chris takes a moment to plan his attack. He is unsure just how he wants to reply to such a leading question. He’s certain he could come up with something that casts doubt upon her sexual prowess - something that she surely deserved for the five minute comment - thus leading to more arguing. She was likely expecting something like that and was prepared for it with a ready comeback. But while he enjoys their (mostly) friendly spats, he thinks he’d like to get her blood up in an entirely different way._

_“Well, Mrs. Larabee, as I am still in the planning stages of my attack, I can but give you a general idea of what to expect, will that be sufficient for your purposes?”_

_“An attack? You have such a way with words, Chris Dear.” She mutters with an amused eye roll. Of course her Navy SEAL mate was going to think in terms of engaging an enemy force. Although, she had to admit that she had goaded him a bit. A tiny bit. Hell, this could prove inspiring, and would be interesting at the very least. Returning to her affected innocent persona she responds to his question. “Any forewarning from you would be of great help to me in preparing myself for your purposes.”_

_Chris takes great delight in the surprise and appreciation he sees on that beloved face as he turns and flashes one of his famous wolf-grins, not to be confused with his infamous dark glares, no this creation is a whole different animal. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, my dear.”_

_“But not half as glad as I’ll be to hear what you have to say, I’m sure.” Sarah remarks primly turning her attention to making minor unneeded course adjustments for her steed in order to calm herself after seeing that look on his handsome face. Darn man, why did he have to be so stupidly attractive? Though she now has quite high expectations for the words he’s going to speak, so that’s something._

_“Hmm, why don’t you just judge for yourself?” Chris smirked then launched into a dry description of his possible opening moves before she could respond further and distract him from his strategic verses. He had plans for this conversation. “For my initial gambit, I believe that I am going to confound the enemy with multiple surprise mounted kisses. You look confused, do you not know what a mounted kiss entails? Please, allow me enlighten you.”_

_And with that as all the preparation he gave her, he easily shifted to his right, bracing himself and reaching over from his closely maneuvered position beside his wife’s horse - close enough that his right leg touched her left - to pull his pretty bride half out of her saddle in a lean towards himself as he took her mouth in a movement that could only be called an owning kiss. There was a time and place for softness and gentle loving kisses, but with his right hand grasping the back of Sarah’s head, fingers threaded through her hair keeping her exactly where he wanted her, he knew that this was not such a time._

_Without stopping the kiss, Chris carefully used his left hand to reach out and grasp his woman’s forgotten reigns in order to keep her horse under control, just in case it decided to spook at just the wrong moment. He had no doubts whatsoever about his ability to control his own mount even with the reigns currently wrapped around the pommel. This wasn’t his first horseback mounted kiss after all._

_After several drugging kisses, but just before reaching the point where he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from takings things farther than he was aiming for, Chris carefully released his lady love and helped return her dazed self properly to her saddle._

_The smug blond cleared his throat as he handed back the borrowed reigns to shaky hands. “As an opening maneuver, it is quite traditional, but that’s not to say ineffective, don’t you agree, my love? Now, would you like to hear about my next tactic?”_

_Feeling like she was just waking up from some wondrous dream, still blinking stupidly at the fantastic kisser she had been smart enough to marry, Sarah felt herself start to grin like a love sick idiot. If she wasn’t a newlywed woman entitled to such feelings, and if she wasn’t anticipating the rest of the afternoon so damn much, she might have felt a bit embarrassed. But staring into lust darkened eyes, she just felt damn lucky and blessed instead. God, it was going to be a fan-fucking-tastic afternoon._

…regrettably, their mini-vacation had to come to an end eventually, and the happy couple had to leave Kansas, and their new horses, behind in order to introduce Chris to his new father-in-law. They departed with instructions from Anne to try to come home for the holidays, and to make sure to bring Buck along as well next time. 

The trip to Sarah’s home town went smoothly and the couple enjoyed the travel time. It was unfortunate that they couldn’t say the same about their greeting. Chris’s new father-in-law wasn’t exactly all he had been hoping for. 

Hank Connelly was a father who thought that no man would ever be good enough for his little girl, so she shouldn’t even try dating, instead she ought to stay single forever and take care of her dear-old-dad. The old curmudgeon was none too pleased to be meeting a son-in-law. It was quickly made clear to Chris that he was not welcome.

Hank never had approved of his daughter’s relationship with the sailor the few times before when she had mentioned dating him. He had always tried to talk her into dumping the boy. That, of course, usually led to screaming matches with his fiery tempered, independent offspring: matches he always lost. And now that they were married he knew there would be no getting rid of Larabee. The brainless sod actually seemed to be infatuated with Sarah. That didn’t mean Hank had to be nice to the man though, so he made sure the interloper knew exactly where he stood in the eyes of his new bride’s father - lower than dirt.

On the blessedly short visit, the only reason Chris didn’t end up doing something he wasn’t sure he would regret was because the old bastard really did seem to love Sarah. He even had a small reception at his house in their honor, granted it was only after Sarah had badgered him into it, but throw it he did. Luckily for Chris, the rest of the extended family and close friends he met there were much more open and friendly towards the Navy SEAL than his new father-in-law. 

The blond decided that he was building character by putting up with bad behavior and rudeness from an unpleasant in-law; that’s what they were traditionally for after all, or so he’d often heard from his married buddies in the corps. Plus, after this visit he wouldn’t have to deal with the man again for at least another year, more if he was lucky and could talk Sarah into just going to his family’s ranch to visit their horses for the next several years worth of leave. You would think that Chris would have learned from his own unpredictable life, of what they say about the best laid plans. Which will completely apply here. It turns out Chris would see Hank again less than nine months later. 

Of course, this time the brand new grandpa would look more kindly upon the man who’d helped to gift him with his perfect newborn grandson. Hank adored his daughter’s son and finally admitted that maybe the boy’s father wasn’t a total loss after all. Chris’s parents were equally as elated to meet their newest grandson, insisting a ‘welcome to the family’ party be thrown immediately. The proud new parents were thrilled to introduce Adam Bucklin Larabee to the whole extended family. As godfather, Buck was equally as thrilled to be so closely involved in the new little family’s life.


	7. Family Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seven: Sarah has some issues to discuss with Chris. "No, Honey, Bob can not be part of the family."

Chris found it unworkable and aggravating to have to stay away from his new family for the length of time needed to run missions as a SEAL Commander. Buck’s company alone was no longer enough to keep him completely happy and content. On Buck’s advice, he and Sarah started looking for a good place to settle down and raise a family. They looked for a place near family with enough land to run some horses, since it would be a shame not to make proper use of their wedding presents. They finally decided on a nice two-story house in a rural suburb just outside of Kansas City near his old home town and his family’s ranch. 

They managed to get a little time off together and the three of them spent it getting the new house set up for living. It luckily didn’t need much work to become move-in ready. Then Buck and Chris had to head back to work while Sarah took care of the finishing touches alone. Sarah was already on extended family leave and now she simply segued that into a graceful exit from the Navy as befitting her years of service. 

Following a brief bit of downtime for rest and recoup, and to return the platoon to full manpower, Chris’s team was sent out on a dangerous and covert mission for the Navy. With Buck as his 2IC they invested a lot of time and effort to perform above and beyond, proving once again that they really were the best of the best. It was a good thing that their last mission was completed so successfully, and so quickly, as it meant that Chris could join Sarah at their new home sooner than expected in retirement from the Corps. His excellent service record allowing him an honorable discharge. 

After he left the Navy, Chris took a short vacation and spent the free time at home with his family fixing up their new house and the small horse barn on their property. Sarah herself was taking a few years away from work in order to stay home and raise Adam, which meant that Chris eventually needed to find a form of employment that would pay well (while not boring him to death). He wasn’t having much luck in locating a job that fit him until Sarah had a bit of a, well, let’s call it a revelation…

_Now, don’t get her wrong, normally Sarah adored her husband, simply loved him to death, even when they argued. But lately he had been working on her last nerve and she was beginning to lean uncomfortably close to the ‘to death’ part of that previous statement. If she found one more broken, previously fine not an hour ago, appliance lying about then she’d simply have to kill him. There would be no other choice. Who knew that they could actually have used all of those wedding toasters?_

_It seemed Christopher Ryan Larabee did not do idleness well: not well at all. With nothing else to do all day, he had taken to watching do-it-yourself TV shows and teaching himself how to be some kind of a super-self-taught handyman. Which would be great, if his learning curve wasn’t spent destroying their house._

_Sarah had to get him out of her way before she committed a domestic homicide. Fortunately, for him - because she’d never get caught and Buck would totally help her cover the justifiable murder up since he liked her better anyway and Adam needed his mother (her son had the lovable goof wrapped around his pudgy little fingers) - she was pretty sure she had overheard just the thing to help her out at the grocery store earlier that afternoon._

_“Honey, can you come in here, please?” Sarah sat composed at the kitchen table facing the open doorway to the family room where her annoyance was currently watching the devil on TV. She loosely clasped her hands together on top of the shiny yellow vinyl and took a calming breath. Now that Adam was finally down for his nap, she just had to keep her temper in check and stick to her plan. “We need to talk.”_

_In the nearby living room, Chris glanced up from a Bob Vila show only long enough to frown in the direction of the kitchen. “What? Now?”_

_“Yes, now. Dear.”_

_“But I’m watching Bob right now. Baby, can’t this wait until later?”_

_“No, it can’t wait until later, Christopher. Come in here. Please.” With the way things had been going lately, later would only be after ‘Bob’ had shown him how to destroy the next thing on his “fix-it” list. Then she’d have to kill him and they’d never get to talk. Sarah took another slow breath and consciously relaxed her clenched hands._

_“But, Hon, Bob is showing me how to fix the dishwasher right now. I’m taking notes; I can’t just leave. We can talk in twenty minutes, I promise.” Chris didn’t take heed of the use of his full name, and he never took his eyes off the screen in front of him as he faithfully recorded down every word out of Bob Vila’s mouth in his own version of shorthand (learned at briefings in the corps) into his trusty blue How-To-Fix-It book._

_“Get your ass in here, Larabee. Now!” Sarah raised her voice, it wasn’t a shriek she told herself. ‘I will not kill him. I will not kill him. Every man deserves one last chance, right? Deep breaths Sarah-girl, just let the anger flow right on through you. Take a big breath and just let it all go. You won’t kill him: yet.’ Her fists relaxed once again back into a loose clasp, and her breathing evened out as she waited to see if her husband truly had lost all his sense when he left the SEALs._

_“Baby? Are you feeling okay?” Chris finally looked completely away from the TV and blinked towards the kitchen where, now that he was paying attention, he swore he could hear growling - or, more likely, low angry, grumbling. He might, maybe, need to pay more attention to this conversation than he had first thought._

_“Arg! You have ten seconds to get in here before I come get you, you ass!” Sarah half rose, hands planted firmly on the tabletop in front of her, ready to go drag his resisting, Vila-addicted butt away from his crack-like TV show._

_Yeah, he’d absolutely missed something important here. He had better make an effort or he’d be sleeping on the lumpy couch in the den again. With a sad, resigned look he switched the TV off, this had all the earmarks of a ‘significant conversation’, then he made his way slowly to the kitchen - his notebook held in front of his body almost like a shield. “Baby?”_

_“Don’t you - ‘Baby?’ - me, mister! Sit.” One tightly clenched fist unwound just enough for a finger to point at the chair opposite her. She only sat back down after he had slunk into the seat across from her and set his ridiculous notebook down on the table in front of himself. “So, like I said earlier, we need to talk.”_

_“About what, oh love-of-my-life?” Chris smiled Buck’s patented ‘Suck-up Number 2’ smile into flashing irate eyes and hoped it would be enough to keep him from being murdered in his sleep. His fingers relayed his nerves to the world as they thrummed repeatedly over the tabletop, his clipped nails tapping out a random tune._

_Sarah suppressed an amused smirk at her anxious husband’s antics, she totally recognized that smile. With a single brow raise, which she knew bugged Chris as he couldn’t raise just one no matter how hard he tried, she responded: “Nice try, but Buck does it better. I’m glad you decided to finally take me seriously. I see you brought paper to take notes: very thoughtful. Now pay attention -”_

_“Notes? But this is my -” Chris risked his life, or at least a bad lumpy-sofa-caused back, as he interrupted. Normally he wouldn’t test his wife’s temper farther, but this was his special How-To-Fix-It book, and it was important to him to be helpful around the house._

_“Of course, notes. Why else would you bring that in here with you?” Sarah didn’t even try and disguise her dislike of that stupid blue book. As far as she was concerned, it was the cause of one too many household accidents and ought to be burned. She might have tried it too, but he always had the damn thing close-by, and he went to sleep after her and she had no idea what he did with the thing at night (it wasn’t left anywhere obvious, she had looked once while on a midnight bathroom run)._

_Chris frowned as he glanced from his notebook to his obviously upset wife. He recalled a few incidents in the past, incidents he had put down to her curiosity and nothing more, at the time anyway, and added that together with her timing and temperament today, and he started to see a disturbing pattern develop._

_“You don’t like this book.” He stated, his fingers stopped their tapping to curl under and he moved one hand to rest on top of the notebook. He kept his eyes focused on the book instead of on Sarah; he was confused and getting entirely too upset about this. It was simply that he had thought he was doing something good, learning some valuable skills and helping about the property. Now, he suddenly wasn’t so sure. He had just hated feeling so useless._

_Seeing the kicked puppy look on her man’s face had Sarah abruptly feeling bad about just how very much she had grown to hate that little blue book. Her husband really did like the thing, and to be honest it wasn’t really the book, nor it’s contents, that she had trouble with when it came right down to it. “I just, I don’t really get it. I mean, why did you start obsessing over it and turning into the mad fixer-upper man? And what’s wrong with the dishwasher?”_

_“It’s inefficient and uses too much water. I’m sure that with a little effort I can have it working better and wasting less energy. I only want to be helpful around here. If something’s broken, then, as the man, I ought to be able to fix it for you.” He looked up earnestly at her, then added with a sneer: “Not some smarmy repairman.”_

_“I see. So, all this crazy is about that plumber?” Sarah raised a disbelieving brow and then smiled at her jealous husband. Men were so silly sometimes._

_“No! I just…I didn’t like him is all. He wasn’t that great a plumber anyway. That sink still drips.” He pointed out with perfect logic. And he hadn’t gone crazy - had he? Okay, maybe naming the notebook was taking things a little too far. He still liked it though._

_“Uh-huh.” So much about the last few weeks made sense now. Sarah could feel herself begin to relax completely for the first time in days, and she was pretty sure that they would be able to work things out safely now that she understood her idiot’s motives._

_“It does!” He had hated how that man had swooped in and chatted up his wife - and right in front of him, no less! - and then the bastard had had the gall to imply that Chris wasn’t man enough to take care of his woman. He’d wanted to snap the jerk’s neck._

_“Oh, I know. I’m sure he did that on purpose just so he could come back again; I’m not dumb.” Now that she could see the behaviors for what they were, a jealous caveman rearing his head from the hindbrain, a lot of the things that had been driving her nuts the last few days began to look a bit different in the new light. They were quite hilarious actually. She smiled at her lovable, clueless caveman._

_“Then why are you defending him?” Chris glared at his smirking woman._

_“I’m not. You idiot. He was a bad, rude man, and I shan’t have him back to fix a thing. There. Are you happy now?” Now that she was sure she wasn’t going to be committing murder anytime soon, Sarah was anxious to get to the topic she had called him into the kitchen to discuss in the first place. ‘Stupid Bob Vila messing everything up.’_

_“No. Don’t patronize me. I’m not Adam.” Chris tensed and upped his glare. ‘She was so damn irritating. And just why in the hell was she smirking at him like that?’_

_“Then, maybe, you ought to stop acting like him!” Sarah snarled right back at him. ‘Stubborn, irritating man! If he would just listen, but - no! - that took sense.’_

_“Fine!” He spits out and purses his lips. At least she wasn’t smirking annoyingly at him anymore. Though he thinks he may have just lost yet another argument._

_“Fine. You are impossible. You know that, right?” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not entirely sure what they are arguing about now, but she is damn sure going to win._

_“Me? I’m not the one sneaking about at night plotting against inanimate objects.” He also crosses his arms as he tosses out a wild theory to fit some of her recent behaviors, not really expecting anything to come of it._

_Sarah pauses her automatic snarky comeback to blink at him. “You knew about that?”_

_“I didn’t.” Chris stares at his beautiful, and apparently crazy, wife. Had she really been stalking his notebook? Well, he had been hiding the thing for weeks, so maybe he had known subconsciously._

_Given what she now knows about his actions and motives, hers are looking a bit more suspect, so like any good tactician she plans a sensible distraction to cover her retreat. “I have something else I’d like to talk about.”_

_“Right. Go ahead and change the subject away from how absolutely nuts we both are, I understand.” He stares at his loony woman and smirks. She stares back, then starts to grin. Before long the two of them are laughing hysterically over the yellow tabletop. They really are a perfect match._

_“God, I love you.” Chris breathes out as his laughter fades and he stares across their ugly yellow table (her choice because: ‘yellow is cheerful, honey’) to look at her red, tear streaked face._

_Sarah looks up into teary blue eyes and returns the gentle smile aimed at her, then she scoots up in her chair and leans forward over the table for a kiss._

_“I would kiss you, but is that snot? Gross.” Chris reaches out for a napkin to hand to her and she knocks him upside the head._

_“Way to ruin the romance there, Romeo.” She says as she takes the now grudgingly handed over napkin and wipes her, admittedly, snot covered face. “Allergies suck.”_

_“Yeah, I wouldn’t know.” Chris snipes just to see the fire spark back to life in her watering eyes. “You need a pill or something, Baby?”_

_“No, thank you.” She managed to get out around the urge to say something entirely different, and not nearly as nice, as she rubs her nose clean. She’s sure her eyes are telegraphing exactly what she really meant though. Too bad Chris seemed to not only be immune to her dark looks, but, judging by his past actions, actually seemed to approve of them._

_“So, is that what you wanted to talk about? My notebook? Do you want me to get rid of it?” Chris had to keep himself from grabbing the book and holding it safe. He hoped she didn’t say yes. He had found that he really liked the whole handyman thing and fixing stuff up. He kind of wanted to keep adding to the book; create a great big collection of household tips and instructions._

_“No, that wasn’t even what I had originally wanted to talk about at all, but Bob just snuck in there,” she rolled her eyes, “like he’s been doing with everything else lately. I request that you leave Bob out of the family debriefs from now on, Honey. And you just have to go about things in a more controlled, and sane, manner.”_

_“What do you mean: sane?” He asked suspiciously._

_“I mean: don’t try and fix things that aren’t broken. In other words, leave the dishwasher alone. Please.”_

_“Alright, I can do that.” He looked a little sheepish. “And I’ll keep the book in the den where you can find it whenever you need to look up how to do something, like get red wine stains out of the carpet.”_

_“Why would I…no, I don’t want to know.” She shook her head, then before he could launch into some convoluted story where everything would surely be Buck’s fault, she finally turned the discussion in the direction it had been meant to go all along. “How goes the job search? Find anything yet?”_

_Chris blinked his confusion away as he answered, he had been expecting to be royally chewed out for the wine stain and had had an appropriate story all ready to go. Guess he could save that story for something else then, what luck. “It’s going alright. I haven’t found anything just yet, but I’m still looking, Baby, I swear. I heard they were hiring over at the golf course. Figured I’d go check it out.”_

_“The golf course, eh? Are you sure you’d be going there looking for a job, and not to improve your short game?” Sarah smiled sweetly at him. Early release from the Corps had left him with a lot of time on his hands and, aside from worshipping Bob Vila and driving her to homicidal rages, he had been working on his golf game. Which sucked. Teasing him was just too easy._

_“My short game is fine, thank you very much.” Chris lied. “It’s my long shot that needs work; I can’t seem to shake this wicked slice. But I was going to ask about the job while I was there, really. Is there a reason you’re asking about the job search? Do we need money? I thought we were okay for a while longer.”_

_She shook her head, “No, we don’t need any extra money just yet, we are fine that way. But you, my husband, need something constructive to do with your time instead of mainlining fix-it marathons on TV all day.” She reached out for his right hand and held it in both of hers. “I know that you can relax with the best of them, but that you hate to be inactive for extended periods of time. Remember, who was your nurse more than once back in the corps? I know. You need a job to be happy.”_

_“I’m happy now. All I need is you and Adam, and Buck too occasionally, and I’m a very happy man. I love you, more than anything in the world.” Now Chris was the one holding her hands in both of his, grip tight and sure, but not crushing. He didn’t ever want Sarah to think that she wasn’t more important to him than any type of work._

_“I know. Me too. Maybe happy was a poor word choice. Are you content? Do you remember how it felt to be in the teams? To finish a mission? Do you ever feel like that anymore? Because, my love, I never meant to take those feelings away from you. They’re a part of you, a part I love. I did marry a Navy SEAL after all.”_

_Chris was at a loss, how was he supposed to respond to that? Tell the truth? That he did miss the adrenaline high and the brotherhood, and the feeling of accomplishment after a job well done. Should he lie? Say that he was totally, blissfully happy just to be around her and Adam all day? That was actually a partial truth, he was happy to be around his family, and he had missed them more when he was in the corps than he missed the corps now. What did she want to hear?_

_Feeling for her poor confused husband, Sarah finally brought up the solution she had happened upon that very day. It pays to be a bit nosy after all. “I overheard an interesting conversation at the grocery store today.”_

_Reeling a bit at the seeming change in topic, Chris still had a clever reply close at hand. “Were you eavesdropping on the old biddies again, Sarah? They’re going to catch you at it one of these days, then what’ll you do?”_

_“Ask them whose grandson has the better career, by the time they stop arguing I’ll be long gone. Anyway, that isn’t the important part, but it’s just like you to focus on the unimportant part. You’re so negative. What is important is what they were talking about.”_

_“Sarah, I honestly have no interest in knitting club, or in their grandchildren’s careers.”_

_“That’s not all they talk about.” Ignoring his look of disbelief she continued. “They were, in fact, discussing a recent scandal involving a few Kansas City policemen.”_

_“I’ve heard of it; everyone seems to have an opinion on it these days,” the blond frowned. He wondered where exactly his complex wife was heading with this topic of conversation, especially given where the whole chat had started._

_“Well, it seems there will be quite a few openings on the force coming up very soon. I hear policemen get very nice benefits.” Plus, she was sure he would get back nearly all of the positive feelings being in the Navy had brought him without the excessive danger and long away missions. She thought it was perfect._

_He didn’t._

_“A cop? You want me to become a cop? And what? Write speeding tickets? Are you joking?” He was not best pleased with this idea. He had never, not even once, considered going into normal law enforcement. He was sure it couldn’t compare to what he’d done before and that he’d eventually end up resentful._

_“Those are Highway Patrol, Dear, totally different to what I’m talking about. Don’t be purposefully dense.” She squeezed his hands, hard. “I think it’d be perfect for you.”_

_“You’re serious about this? You can see me as a cop?” Chris was sure his skepticism and doubt were shining through on his face and in his voice, but he couldn’t be bothered to censor his reactions any, she deserved to know how awful he thought her suggestion._

_“Oh, I can definitely see you all dressed up in your little cop uniform,” she cooed, letting her eyelids droop to half-mast and fluttering them at him. A little sexual motivation never hurt after all. “There’s a reason why the police uniform is a stripping favorite.”_

_That was as blatant a manipulation as any he’d ever heard before, but damn if it wasn’t working, at least a little. Damn tempting woman. “I hated dressing up in my whites, I imagine cop blues are just as bad.”_

_“So, be a cop who doesn’t have to wear them that often,” Sarah rolled her eyes at his stubborn refusal to just accept that she was right. “Like on TV: a homicide detective or work in vice or whatever. Look, just promise me that you’ll think about it. And if you don’t have any other serious prospects in two weeks time that you’ll go to the KCPD and make inquiries. Now, come on. All this arguing and talk about stripping has me wanting to try out the new soundproofing in our bedroom.”_

…Chris wasn’t too sure about working for a police department, and he was definitely not interested in starting training from the beginning as a rookie, but to humor his wife he went in to inquire about the position. He came home the newest enrollee in the local police academy. Sarah was smug for days.

While he still had no interest in writing traffic tickets or patrolling a beat, he was surprised to find himself intrigued with the possibility of becoming a homicide detective, and being on the SWAT team was an additional perk he found himself actually looking forward to obtaining as well. Seems he owed his wife something nice for her not-so-awful-after-all suggestion.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure what all exactly to warn for in this story, or whether to rate it teen or mature, but if you want to know about any specific actions/activities you can just ask. I have no problem adding to the tags either. The story will follow Chris's life up to 'present time' and though it starts off pretty nice and tame, it will contain descriptions of crime scenes and reference murders later on. Also, not all of the Magnificent 7 boys will show up in this first story. And FYI: the crossover parts will not happen until the end of the story, and may not even contain any of the main Criminal Minds characters (though they will likely show up in later stories in the series). The only romantic relationship in this story will be Chris/Sarah (and canonical deaths will apply).


End file.
